


I don't know why, but I guess it's got something to do with you

by Probably_Not_Captain_America



Category: Fantastic Four, Fantastic Four (Comicverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood Kink, Bondage, Dark, Dark!Reed, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Light Masochism, M/M, Minor Character Death, a very crooked romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 19:24:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17607455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Probably_Not_Captain_America/pseuds/Probably_Not_Captain_America
Summary: A low chuckle answered him as the figure stepped into the harsh neon light.“Hello, Victor.”Richards smiled, showing too many teeth and too cruel an intent.His brown eyes seemed almost black, but Victor couldn’t tell whether it was the light or the emotion behind them that darkened them.---Richards’ mind was an abyss, and Victor had realized too late that he had looked into it too long and too deep; when it had dawned on him, there had been no turning back.---Dark!Reed oneshot!





	I don't know why, but I guess it's got something to do with you

**Author's Note:**

> Dark!Reed AU wouldn't leave my mind, so the obvious short-term solution is more vicreed porn. Is it ooc? Probably. Is it self-indulgent? Absolutely. Do I regret it? Not at all.  
> Song: I Don't Know Why by Imagine Dragons

Victor’s first thought at regaining consciousness was _ouch_.

His second was _what the fuck_?

Neither of them was very dignified, but both were true: he _hurt_ , and he really had no idea of what was going on.

He slowly blinked. Beyond the comforting darkness of his eyelids, the world was blurry and too bright; he squeezed his eyes shut again and slowly shook his head, trying to get rid of the dizziness.

_Where am I? And **why**?_

Something was clearly wrong here. For one thing, Victor’s armor was gone; he was wearing nothing but the thin black under-armor suit. Judging by his awkward position, he was shackled to the wall with his arms above his head, which he was pretty sure was not a good sign. His wrists were stinging and his fingers were starting to go numb, meaning he must have been hanging there for quite some time before waking up.

Victor tried his hardest to recollect what had happened in the last few hours, but thinking was hard with the incessant pulsing ache behind his eyes.

He closed his eyes again and sighed. Gathering his mental resources, he called upon an advanced meditation technique designed to enhance the resistance to pain, and as he focused on the ancient mantras, he found the pain in his head slowly subsiding, the dull ache becoming a distant background noise.

 _Good_.

With his mind thus cleared, Victor resolved to find out more about his current situation. He straightened up best as he could, which took his weight off his arms, but made the sharp pain in his wrists more pronounced as the circulation slowly returned.

Victor felt a few warm beads trickling down his arms, and realized that he was bleeding; the shackles must have cut into his skin while he was out. As he moved his face, further lacerations became noticeable; his bottom lip was split, and a scrape on his cheek stung with every expression he made.

Twisting his neck, he looked at the manacles that bound him; they were high-tech looking, at a stark contrast with the rest of his surroundings. He was in some sort of dungeon: the solid stone walls were cold and damp, and the air reeked of mould. The medieval atmosphere was disrupted, however, by the advanced scientific equipment littering the room, illuminated by neon lights; Victor only recognized some of it, but it was enough to tell him just where he’d landed.

 _Richards_.

Victor felt his stomach sinking as his memory of the past hours returned to him in a flash.

_They had received a distress signal of unknown origin, calling to the Fantastic Four for aid; they’d followed, but Victor **knew** that it was he trap, he’d known the second he’d set foot into the abandoned building, even before the bomb had gone off…_

_Damn._

Where were the others? Had Susan escaped by hiding? Had Benjamin shielded her and Jonathan form the blast, perhaps? Had Richards even been after them in the first place?

Victor’s dark train of thought was interrupted when he heard clicking footsteps approaching from outside the security doors.

_Here comes the man himself, I reckon…_

Victor steeled himself.

Sure enough, after a few moments, the heavy doors slid open, and to a tall, slender form walked into the shadows of the room, with a grand billowing cloak and a stride so sure that Victor didn’t even need to see his face to know who it was.

“ _Doctor Richards_.”

Victor’s cold voice rang in the silence of the dungeon.

A low chuckle answered him as the figure stepped into the harsh neon light.

“Hello, Victor.”

Richards smiled, showing too many teeth and too cruel an intent.

He looked the same as always: dark, grey-streaked hair slicked neatly back, his blue and white bodysuit stretched tautly over his defined, angular shape, the scar on his left cheek shimmering in the unnatural lighting. His brown eyes seemed almost black, but Victor couldn’t tell whether it was the light or the emotion behind them that darkened them.

Victor glared at him and squared his shoulders, every shred of survival instinct in him screaming at his current situation: unarmed, unarmored, unable to move. There were too many _un_ s in that sentence for Victor’s liking.

Richards flaunted closer, hands clasped behind his back, his cape softly waving behind him.

„Well, well, well…what have we here? The great Victor von Doom, shackled and bruised. What a sight to behold…”

He stopped in front of Victor, not quite in his personal space but still too close for comfort, and looked Victor up with a smug grin on his face.

_His mistake._

“By the twelve Moons of Munnopor, I—“ Victor started his incantation, but Richards immediately held up a hand to silence him.

“Ah-ah, none of that now, my dear Victor. I’m sure you wouldn’t want your puny band of friends to suffer without need, would you?”

Victor stopped dead as soon as the words left Richards’ mouth.

_How dare he?!_

Victor clenched his hands into fists despite the pain and ground his teeth together to stop himself from saying anything further. His resolve was dearly tested when the crooked grin returned to Richards’ face.

“There now, that’s much better. I knew you wouldn’t want to put your gang of imbeciles in danger. Though _why_ you insist on staying with them still escapes me…” he trailed off with a wave of his hand and clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“What have you _done_ with them, Richards?” Victor spat out, with a look that could kill.

Richards cocked his head to the side.

“Nothing…as of yet, anyways. Behave, and it will stay that way.”

Victor heaved a breath and bit his lip. Richards was clearly amused by this situation. If Victor managed to keep it that way, he might draw some useful information out of him…he just had to tread carefully.

“Why should I believe you? For all I know, you are bluffing.”

“True, for all you know, I might be. But is that really a risk you’re willing to take?”

Victor said nothing.

“That’s what I thought,” Richards said, and came a step closer to Victor. The unfalteringly bright light highlighted his features, the skin over his high cheekbones almost fluorescent in its paleness, contrasting the sinister shadow in his eyes.

A chill went down Victor’s spine. Richards was beautiful, anyone with eyes could see that, but what truly frightened Victor -  and drew him in by the same measure - was the knowledge of what lay behind those dark eyes; an equally dark mind, nearly unrivaled in its greatness and cunning.

Richards’ mind was an abyss, and Victor had realized too late that he had looked into it too long and too deep; when it had dawned on him, there had been no turning back. It went all the way back to college, when the young man with the dark hair and darker eyes had been given the laboratory next to Victor’s own. It had intrigued him that another student would be given his own private quarters and lab, and so he had approached the man, soon realizing that he had found perhaps the only person in the world that could rival Victor’s own intelligence, even surpass it.

They had become friends; more than that, at times. But then the incident had happened, and nothing had been the same anymore. Reed’s mind-control device had worked too well, and when five students had been died, killed by each other, the university had pulled the plug and expelled Reed, covering it up as a tragedy induced by alcohol and drugs. He’d insisted that the device had only brought out their innermost aggressions, that he wasn’t to blame for their shortcomings, but he had left nonetheless.

As he’d been leaving, one of the students’ friends had lunged at Reed with a knife in mindless hate, scarring his face. Victor still remembered how he’d hated the man for marking Reed’s perfect face, and how he’d wondered if his hate shouldn’t be directed elsewhere. But Reed had just smiled, given Victor a searing goodbye kiss that had tasted of blood in more ways than one, and left.

Victor hadn’t seen him for years, not hearing of him, either, until news of the private space mission that had left the returning astronauts with strange powers had hit the papers. He’d read Reed’s name, and to this day, he was unsure what drove him to take the other three astronauts under his wing. Perhaps it was a poor attempt at redemption, trying to make up for not stopping Reed, but he’d trained them, cared for them, and soon they’d found themselves fighting off various threats to humanity, under the ridiculous moniker of _Fantastic Four_ that Jonathan had come up with.

Far more often than Victor would have liked, these threats turned out to be Reed Richards, who preferred to be called Doctor Richards by the general public; he would ceaselessly try to impose his views on mankind, usually by force, insisting that he was their savior. Victor and his odd assembled gang would stop him, but every time, he found it harder to resist the luring call of those deep dark eyes…

“What is it, Victor? You’re staring. I’d ask if there's something on my face, but you know…” Richards gestured to the scar.

Victor blinked. He _had_ been staring.

“From the look on your face, you were reminiscing on the old days. Why don’t you tell me about your trip down memory lane? It’s been far too long since we talked, anyways.”

Richards sounded amicable, friendly, as he stepped closer again, now definitely invading Victor’s personal space, the darkness in his eyes supplemented with a threatening hunger.

Victor’s breath hitched the tiniest bit in his throat as he finally spoke.

“…what did you do to him? You know. The man who gave you this,” he nodded to the scar.

The shark grin was back on Richards’ face.

“Oh, I did nothing to him, I don’t hold grudges. I _did_ hear that he flung himself off a cliff a few years back, though…but that may be a rumor. Who knows?”

The glint in Richards’ eyes told Victor that he definitely did know. Victor swallowed; he wasn’t sure why he’d even felt compelled to ask in the first place.

When Victor didn’t speak any further, Richards regarded him in silence for a moment. Then, he reached out a hand and lightly drew it up the inside of Victor’s arm, catching a drop of blood that had caught at his elbow.

Victor shuddered at the contact, involuntarily. Oh, how he _longed_ for Reed to touch him; because it _was_ Reed. He wasn’t calling him Doctor Richards, this was _his_ Reed, and he wanted him, badly, even as every instinct in him screamed against it.

Reed _noticed_ , and Victor knew he did as Richards made eye contact with him and slowly licked the red streak off his palm.

_Curse this man._

Reed licked his lips, smirking and looking dangerously hungry for _more._ His teeth glinted in the neon light, and then he was on Victor, pushing up against him as he drew his tongue over the sensitive skin on the inside of Victor’s elbow, lapping at the blood that had pooled there.

Victor bit down hard on his already bruised bottom lip and tried his hardest not to react, tried not to inhale Reed’s scent or press up against his lithe, warm body…

Reed made a noise low in his throat, like a growl, and Victor thought he should be disgusted, but the sound sent a wave of heat to his lower regions that was hard to ignore.

Reed moved to Victor’s other arm, licking clean every inch of skin he could reach, even going so far as to use his mutant stretching abilities to more comfortably reach Victor’s wrists. The sensation of Reed’s hot, wet tongue on his arteries, pushing into the open skin, was too much; Victor twitched and a groan escaped past his clenched teeth.

Victor felt Reed’s hot breath as he laughed, felt his lips as he mumbled into skin:

“Looks like your weak spots haven’t changed much over the years…”

Reed returned to eye level with Victor, his gaze half-lidded, a stray droplet of blood running down his chin. He caught it with his tongue and smiled.

“Let’s see if this still works.”

He leaned in and bit sharply at Victor’s neck, and Victor arched up, trying to bring his hands down in defensive instinct, but only tearing his wrists open further in the process. He felt Reed smile against his skin as he bit again, harder this time, only to lick away the pain. Reed raised his hand and dragged his gloved thumb over the scrape on Victor’s face, hard enough to hurt.

“You like that, don’t you…?” Reed muttered, and in response, Victor tried to kick him.

Tried, because with a speed and strength that could only be inhuman, Reed stopped Victor’s knee before it connected with him.

A beat passed, and then Reed huffed a chuckle into Victor’s neck and bit again, this time hard enough to break the skin. Victor hissed through his teeth at the pain, but stopped himself from moaning, because _fuck Reed, but yes, he **did** like it._

Reed drew back and looked at Victor, whose breath was coming harder than he would have liked.

“Come on now, Victor. I can tell when you’re not really trying. That was a miserable attempt at fighting back, and you know it.”

Victor fixed Reed with a look that could kill. Had he been free, he might have tried to punch Reed’s face in, or perhaps he would have slammed him into the wall and made him regret those words in other ways. As it was, he opted for glaring and staying silent.

Reed smiled and, raising his hands, he slowly tugged his gloves off, first one, then the other. Flinging them carelessly aside, he drew his thumb over Victor’s split lip. A flash of shark teeth was the only warning Victor got before Reed slammed their mouths together in a bruising kiss, tongue forcefully pressing to the open wound.

Reed moaned obscenely, but Victor kept his mouth firmly closed against the assault, determined to hold onto the last shreds of his self-control. Reed drove a canine into Victor’s lip, but Victor didn’t budge; so Reed fisted a hand into Victor’s hair and pulled _hard_ , brutally yanking his head back, and that finally did it. Victor gasped, and Reed drove his tongue into his mouth, hungry and demanding.

And Victor _snapped_. He broke, he could almost hear the sound of it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d _missed_ this, so badly it hurt, like being starved and choked and buried alive, and now Reed was here, kissing him breathless, and Victor felt _alive_ again.

He moaned and kissed Reed back, grinding their bodies together as far as the shackles would permit, wishing his hands were free so he could touch Reed, feel his hot skin under his fingers again.

Reed grinned against the kiss and snaked a hand underneath Victor’s shirt, tracing his muscles and settling over his heart, somewhere between asserting ownership and ripping it straight out of Victor’s ribcage. Victor wasn’t sure whether he would have minded at this point.

They had to separate for air, and when Reed drew back, he was breathing heavily, his impossibly pale skin slightly flushed, and he was so beautiful it hurt. Victor kissed him, chasing his lips like a drowning man desperate for oxygen, and Reed’s other hand was at Victor’s hips now, dipping dangerously low beneath his waistband.

Victor leaned into the touch, craving more, so Reed huffed a laugh through his nose and wrapped his elegant long fingers around Victor’s cock.

Victor made a desperate noise, bucking up into Reed’s hand. He was very hard, almost painfully so, and Reed was taking it _so damn slow_. Reed broke the kiss to pull Victor’s hair again, exposing his throat, and Reed attacked the bite mark from earlier as he started moving his hand.

Victor groaned in relief at the touch. Reed had always had nimble fingers, and he had an uncanny knack for finding Victor’s sweet spots; the way he teased at Victor’s foreskin, drew his thumb through the leaking slit at the tip, scraped his nails down the length with just the right amount of pressure had Victor unraveled and close to the edge in only a few strokes.

He wouldn’t call it whimpering, that was undignified, but the sound Victor made when Reed drew his hand back was unnervingly close to it.

Reed stepped back and looked at Victor: practically panting, noticeably flushed, the little clothing he wore in wild disarray, with his dripping hard cock jutting out.

Reed licked his lips and grinned again.

“You look delicious, Victor. I can’t believe I ever let you go.”

Victor turned his head away, gathering himself, and then looked back at Reed.

“Why don’t you come back here and show me how much you’ve missed me?”

The corner of Victor’s mouth was raised in a challenging smirk.

Reed laughed.

“You know, normally, I’d make you beg for it, but you’re right. I did miss you. Sly bastard.”

Reed walked back up to Victor, bringing their lips together in a sloppy kiss. He drew back, and, not breaking eye contact, he dropped on his knees in front of Victor to lightly draw his lips over Victor’s tip, then bringing his tongue out to lick up the precome coating it.

Victor let his eyes flutter shut as he stifled another moan. Reed smiled and brought his hand up to the base of Victor’s cock, cradling his balls with the other as he kept teasing with the tip of his tongue. Victor twitched, involuntarily bucking his hips, and Reed decided to have mercy on Victor and took his length into his mouth.

At that, Victor was _lost_.

“ _Aaah—fuck, Reed, **please**_ —“

Reed laughed around Victor’s cock, the vibrations almost sending him over the edge, and Victor couldn’t help it; Reed’s name spilled past his lips again, and then again, because he’d missed this abyss of a man so dearly it hurt.

Reed swallowed, and that did it; Victor came with a strangled cry of _Reed_ , spilling into Reed’s mouth as he went delirious with the release of long-pent-up pleasure.

_He had missed Reed._

When Victor came down from his high, he was panting and weak-kneed, the shackles the only thing still holding him upright. Reed made sure Victor was looking when he swallowed his come and licked his lips again, the plush swollen red a stark contrast to his alabaster face.

He got up, but made no move to fix Victor’s appearance; not that there had been anyone around them to care, anyway.

Victor opened his eyes and smiled at Reed, with less malice than he would have liked.

“So…what now? “ Reed said, not really a question.

“For starters, you could release me and let me take care of you,” Victor suggested, worn out but fully intent on getting his hands on Reed one way or another.

Reed’s shark grin was back.

“You know, I was thinking more along the lines of jacking myself off in front of you, calling your name and begging you to fuck me while watching you squirm because you can’t.”

Victor huffed a laugh through his nose.

“That is very specific. Have you been thinking about this for long?”

“Maybe. Who knows?”

Again, Victor was very sure Reed knew.  

“Considering I’m holding your friends hostage and threatening you, you really seem quite down for this,” Reed said, raising an eyebrow in mock scolding.

Victor cracked a lopsided grin.

“They can wait. I trust you did them no harm.”

“I have a distinct feeling you wouldn’t care too much if I did, either…”

Reed swooped closer.

“…because I know the saying about looking into the abyss, and I believe you have looked too long.”

Victor had been a lot of things, but never a liar; he knew there was no point in keeping this façade up any longer. His grin returned, a shade darker this time, when he said:

“I have. I like the view.”

Reed smiled back and kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> omfg let me just say that i will GO DOWN BURNING with this ship, and there is a very high probability of more dark!reed fics to follow at some point, maybe even smth longer?? who knows. gotta finish tonight we'll both go MIA first tho. gonna draw me some dark!reed now i think B] 
> 
> As always, point out any mistakes, and comments make me happy!:)


End file.
